


Memoirs of Harlan's Past

by Dreamersky



Category: Justified
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:10:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2304377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamersky/pseuds/Dreamersky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Our paths were chosen the minute we left our mamas wombs, Raylan.  There was never going to be a happy ending to this fable..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memoirs of Harlan's Past

The burner cell phone rang three times, and then there was a beat of silence, just as planned. Raylan held his breath, waiting for the next sequence. A few seconds later the cell phone rang three more times, then silence. When he heard the next three rings, Raylan snatched the phone off the night stand and answered on an exhale, pushing out the air he’d been storing in his lungs.

  
“I thought you’d never fucking call. It’s been over two weeks.”

  
“Well, my friend, patience has never been one of your strengths,” Boyd drawled on the other end of the phone, his voice low and steady.  
Amazed that his plan had actually worked, Raylan closed his eyes, overcome with relief. Boyd had made it out of Harlan alive. And so had Ava.

  
As if reading Raylan’s mind, Boyd said, “How is Ava?”

  
“She’s fine. Swears there’s no way she’ll have more fun as a brunette.”

  
Boyd let out a low chuckle. “She’ll get used to the new look in due time.”

  
“Witness protection ain’t easy,” Raylan said. “Especially for someone like Ava.”

  
“Well, we all wanted a clean slate, a chance to start over,” Boyd reminded Raylan. “Beggars can’t be fussy.”

  
“Are you okay?” Raylan asked Boyd.

  
“Tired and a bit lonely, but I’m fine.”

  
“I want to see you,” Raylan said in a hushed tone, as if someone might be listening.

  
“I miss you too, Darlin, but it’s too soon. We need to wait a while, let things settle a bit.”

  
A wave of anger washed over Raylan like a tsunami.

  
“Goddamnit, Boyd, this should have ended differently.”

  
“Our paths were chosen the minute we left our mamas wombs, Raylan. There was never going to be a happy ending to this fable. Perhaps someday someone will write the chronicles of our lives in Harlan. Your daughter, maybe? She’ll have a hell of a story to share with her children.”

  
“I doubt that,” Raylan said, with a little less venom in his tone. The thought of his daughter made him smile. The thought of her knowing and sharing his past sins made him cringe. But he knew Boyd was right, though the truth did little to wither his guilt.

  
“I should have taken you with me when I left Harlan the first time. We could have settled in San Francisco, someplace like that.”

  
Raylan heard another soft chuckle from Boyd. “Now that would have been one exciting chronicle, wouldn’t it?”

  
“I’m serious, Boyd. I’m sorry I left you behind.”

  
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Raylan. None of this is your fault. I made my own choices. I could have stayed in the military, caught up with you later. We could have traveled the world on Uncle Sam’s dime. But instead, I made the choice to go back to Harlan and live the life of an outlaw.”

  
Silence filled the small bedroom Raylan was sitting in. He’d rented a two bedroom apartment not far from Winona and his baby. The second bedroom was already decorated in vibrant pastels for his daughter, once she was actually old enough to stay overnight. After a few beats of painful silence, Raylan finally spoke again. “Where are you staying?”

  
“I’ll contact you in a few weeks,” Boyd said, a touch of sadness lacing his words. “Stay vigilant.”

  
The day Vasquez and Rachel convinced Raylan to stay in Kentucky and help bring down Boyd Crowder, was the day he knew his career as a U.S. Marshal would soon be over. There was a reason that thick file on Boyd had sat on his file cabinet, collecting dust. However, no one knew the actual motive except for Raylan and Boyd. Truth be told, Raylan had kissed his time in the Marshal’s service goodbye the night he stood on the same tarmac where Nick Augustine drew his last breath. The risk had been well worth the reckoning. His family was safe. And though he was no longer a Marshal, Raylan still had a nice paycheck coming in.

  
Working as a private security consultant was not half as challenging or rewarding as being a Marshal, nevertheless Raylan would still be able to give his daughter a proper upbringing, and at least get her through college. Even with all the positives that had come with his career change, an unwanted emptiness had lingered from the time Raylan left Kentucky until the minute he entered the Sunshine State, the hollowness hanging over his head like a dark cloud.

  
The plan had worked, Raylan kept reminding himself. Ava was safe and out of danger, and Boyd was somewhere in Georgia, with the help of an old contact Raylan had met in Florida years ago, during his first stay in the state. Of course, this associate was not always a law abiding citizen. Nonetheless, he owed Raylan big time, and he’d agreed to help Raylan get Boyd out of Harlan and find him a safe hiding place in Georgia before the shit hit the fan, so to speak. Boyd had orchestrated and done appalling things as a criminal, but then again, there was not one person he’d hurt who hadn’t done the same to someone else, if not worse. At least that’s how Raylan justified his actions.

  
The truth was, Raylan and Boyd loved each other deeply. They’d grown up together, loved, hated, and protected one another. Their relationship had always been complex and mystifying. But at the core of all that intricacy, there was always a solid foundation of love. And Raylan did not want to see his friend and lover spend the rest of his days in prison, or a silent eternity six feet under. Boyd had promised Raylan he’d never dwell in another day of crime if he got him out of Harlan alive. And Raylan loved him enough to believe every word of that vow.

A month later, sitting in Winona’s canary yellow kitchen, his daughter sleeping in his arms, Raylan wondered if he’d ever hear from Boyd again.

  
“Raylan, are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Winona asked, basting a roast she’d just taken out of the oven.

Every Sunday he joined his girls for dinner, a tradition he hoped to keep going until his daughter was old enough to have her own social life.

  
“I’m listening, Winona. You said your new boss tried to squeeze your tits on the elevator.”

  
“I said no such thing, Raylan. What’s wrong with you?”

  
“I got a lot on my mind, nothing for you to worry about.”

  
Winona stared worriedly at Raylan as she saturated the roast beef with drippings from the pan.

  
“Are you happy now that you’re back in Florida?”

  
“I’m happy to be close to you and my baby girl.”

  
“But you miss the job.”

  
“Some days, yes. Most of the time, no.” Raylan did not dare share his true thoughts on who he really missed. Winona had no idea just how much he and Boyd had shared over the years. And he wanted to keep it that way. Winona would not understand the situation, nor did she have a clue about Raylan’s bisexuality. They were good friends now, co-parents. He did not want to jeopardize their relationship. He’d ruined enough relationships in his life.

  
Winona knew she wouldn’t get much more out of Raylan, so she threw a bag of fresh green beans on the table in front of him.

  
“Will you put her down for a nap and help me snap the beans, please?”

  
Raylan stood carefully, looking down at his sleeping daughter.

  
“As soon as I put her down, she’s gonna start crying,” Raylan said, making an excuse to hold her a bit longer.

  
“You’re going to get her used to being held while she sleeps. That’s not good for a baby.”

  
Raylan’s burner cell phone vibrated in his pocket and his heart began to pound in his chest.

  
“Winona, take her please. I have to answer this call.”

  
Winona wiped her hands on a dish towel and took the baby from Raylan’s arms. Raylan rushed out the back door for some privacy, standing on the patio in the backyard. Pulling the phone from his pocket, Raylan looked at the caller ID display. Unknown caller. Boyd. Raylan switched the ringer to on and waited for the next sequence of rings. A few seconds later his phone rang three time and he answered.

  
“Sorry, my baby girl was sleeping, so I put the phone on vibrate.”

  
“No need for apologies, my friend. How’s she doing?” Boyd sounded good.

  
“Growing like a wild fire in a dry forest. She’ll be walking in no time.”

  
“Give her a kiss for me.”

  
“What you up to?” Raylan asked.

  
“Missing you, and missing the familiarity of home.”

  
“What else?” Raylan asked, closing his eyes, trying not to invite emptiness in for the day.

  
“I have a real job.”

  
Raylan knew what Boyd meant. He was working a regular job, no crime involved.

  
“Something interesting, I hope.”

  
“I’ll explain when you get here. I’m going to send you a text message when I hang up.”

  
“Okay,” Raylan said apprehensively as Boyd disconnected.

  
A few seconds later, a message alert chimed on the cell phone. Raylan opened the message, seeing that Boyd had sent Google driving directions with a map, along with a couple of dates. The dates were for next weekend. Raylan pushed the phone back down into the pocket of his jeans and padded back inside the house to tell Winona he’d have to miss Sunday dinner next week.


	2. Memoirs of Harlan's Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan followed Boyd’s directions to a quaint cabin stationed at the top of the road, nestled under a shield of shaded trees. The perfect hiding place for a man who had run-away from a life of crime and was starting from scratch.

**Memoirs of Harlan’s Past**

 

Raylan turned his black Ford F-150 onto a discreet dirt path, just off Duncan Bridge Road, concealed within the mountains of Helen, Georgia. A sign welcomed visitors to Crazy Horse Cabins and pointed to a cluster of cozy cabins. Twenty minutes from the popular tourist attractions of Helen, Georgia, the vacation rental cabins boasted a private seclusion for families that wanted to escape city life for a while. Raylan followed Boyd’s directions to a quaint cabin stationed at the top of the road, nestled under a shield of shaded trees. The perfect hiding place for a man who had run-away from a life of crime and was starting from scratch.

Raylan pulled in front of the cabin, parking next to a classic white working van. Angling out of the truck, he stretched his muscles, his body stiff from a drive that had taken almost eleven hours, with a couple of stops for snacks and bathroom breaks. The front of the contemporary cabin was surrounded by a screened-in porch and a front door painted red. Boyd was sitting on a lounge chair inside the screened patio. He hopped up and pushed the screen door open when Raylan stepped out of his truck.

Raylan did a double take as Boyd walked his way. Wearing jeans and a t-shirt, Boyd had lightened his spiky hair to dirty blond and grown a goatee that was speckled with gray. Raylan guessed it was as much as he was going to do to leave the old Boyd behind for now. Boyd smiled a familiar megawatt grin, and Raylan smiled back, pulling his friend into a warm embrace.

“You look like a skinny version of that prickly haired blond guy Winona likes to watch on the cooking channel,” he said, pushing Boyd away to get a better look.

Boyd wrapped his arm around Raylan’s shoulder and ushered him toward the cabin.

“If I watched the cooking channel, I might know who you’re talking about. But I can assure you, I don’t need cooking lessons.”

“Never mind, then,” Rayland said as Boyd pulled open the screen door of the cabin and walked in, Raylan close behind. They went through the red door and entered Boyd’s new home.

The cabin was clearly decorated for vacationers, adorned with posh rugs and furniture, and a cozy, stone framed fire place in the living room. The kitchen was surprisingly modern with oak cabinets and white appliances that looked brand new. There were a couple of pots on the stove, and the aroma of fried chicken drifted through the cabin. Raylan’s stomach grumbled. It had been a few hours since he’d eaten and the sun was now setting behind the mountains.

“I’m starving.”

“I figured you would be,” Boyd said, pointing to a chair at the kitchen table. “Sit, I’ll get dinner on the table.”

“You look good, Boyd,” Raylan said, sitting down at a small, round oak table. “Looks like you went and joined a hillbilly boy band.”

Boyd ran a hand through his short, spiky locks and laughed. “Needed a change, I guess. Kind of goes with the new lifestyle.”

“Nice place you got,” Raylan said, studying the kitchen.

“I got a job maintaining the vacation rentals on this property. Rewiring, cleaning, common repairs and upgrades. In return, I receive a fair monthly discount on this cabin, along with enough money to get by.”

Raylan watched in silence as Boyd served up two plates filled with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green peas. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words were stuck in his throat. Watching Boyd move around the kitchen, talking about his new job and life, stirred a longing in him that he could not ignore. It had been a long time since he and Boyd had been alone like this, without the intense scrutiny of solving some sort of crime that more than likely involved both of them. A few years in fact. But the desire for intimate contact was still there, quiescent yet slowly rousing in his gut.

“Your friend helped me get the job, put in a good word for me with the landlord,” Boyd continued, setting a hot plate of food in front of Raylan.

Raylan nodded in appreciation. His contact had also helped Boyd get a fake ID, birth certificate, and passport, just in case he had to leave the country. Lucky for both of them, most folks who could testify against Boyd were in witness protection, prison, or dead. Boyd had not been charged with a specific crime before he’d disappeared from Harlan, even with a file as thick as the one Raylan had left behind. For all the Kentucky authorities knew, Boyd might be dead, taken down by the hands of someone he’d pissed off during his long stretch as a criminal. Buried someplace never to be found. And that was the story they’d both hoped folks in Harlan would believe as life moved on in Kentucky.

“For the record, he’s not a friend, just someone who owed me a huge favor,” Raylan declared.

“Well, whatever he is, I now owe him a few favors,” Boyd said, sitting down at the table across from Raylan.

Boyd looked his friend directly in the eyes, his hands fisted under his chin, elbows resting in front of his plate on the table.

“Thank you, Raylan. I know what you gave up to help get me and Ava out of Kentucky.”

Raylan studied Boyd’s face, his hazel eyes projecting genuine gratitude.

“The sacrifice was well worth it,” Raylan admitted, leaving the rest unsaid. Boyd would understand the unspoken words. This was something he felt he owed Boyd, for leaving him behind years ago.

“You could have sent me to prison and probably received the promotion of your life with the Marshal’s Service.”

“Convincing Ava to go into WITSEC for going against you and lying to my co-workers is nothing to be proud of. And you and I both know I didn’t deserve a promotion.”

“I’m sorry we lost so much precious time, fighting from opposite sides of the tracks,” Boyd said quietly, picking up his fork.

“Nothing we can do about it now,” Raylan said. He didn’t want to dwell on the past.  
“What’s done is done. Now stop talking and let’s eat.”

Two hours later, the kitchen was clean and Raylan and Boyd were sitting in lounge chairs on the porch, drinking Kentucky bourbon from Mason jars, a Harlan tradition they refused to leave behind.

“Raylan, you ever miss your daddy?”

“No.”

“Come on, Raylan.”

“Shit, the only thing I miss is the love and support I never got from my daddy.”

“Me too,” Boyd admitted, taking another swig of his bourbon. “I sure miss my mama, though.”

“What is your new name now?” Raylan asked, quietly changing the subject, staring at Boyd over the rim of his Mason jar.

“Well, the name on my new ID is Clyde Ellis.”

Raylan smirked at Boyd. “Shit, Boyd. That’s the best you could come up with?”

Boyd smiled wide, the bourbon warming his stomach. “My brilliance is still beyond even my own belief, Raylan.”

“Your cockiness is still beyond belief, that’s for sure.” Raylan was trying not to smile.

“I couldn’t leave all my greatest attributes in Harlan, now could I?”

Raylan finished his bourbon without an answer. Truth be known, he was glad to see a hint of the Boyd from Harlan, something familiar in an unfamiliar environment.

A few beats of silence passed between the men, and then Raylan spoke in a soft voice.

“I guess we should be able to hold on to one or two things from Harlan’s past.”

Boyd met Raylan’s eyes. What part of the past are you missing most tonight?”

Raylan didn’t answer, an honest response stuck in his gut, once again stirring up desires he didn’t want to feel.

“Raylan?”

“Let’s go inside,” Raylan said, placing his jar on the porch by the chair. “It’s getting chilly out here.”

Boyd swallowed the rest of his bourbon and followed Raylan back inside the cabin. And before he could get the front door closed, Raylan had pushed him up against the wall, pressing his lips against Boyd’s mouth in a heated kiss. Boyd’s body responded quickly as his tongue pushed its way into Raylan’s mouth, a moan vibrating deep within his throat. Tasting the bourbon on Boyd’s tongue, Raylan pressed his pelvis into Boyd’s and cupped his face in his hands, deepening the kiss, pulling Boyd’s tongue into his mouth.

Boyd grabbed Raylan’s ass and pulled him closer, his hips moving in a slow circular motion. With growing erections straining against their jeans, Boyd pulled his lips away from Raylan’s mouth and went to work on his zipper. As he was pushing Raylan’s jeans down over his stiff member, Raylan used the time to pull the black Henley t-shirt he was wearing over his head.

Before Raylan could even step out of his jeans, now in a heap around his ankles, Boyd was on his knees, his hot, slippery tongue circling the head of Raylan’s cock. Bracing his hands on the wall in front of him, Raylan closed his eyes as Boyd pushed him to the back of his throat and then slowly massaged him with his mouth, his head moving back and forth with resolute precision.

“Ahh…Boyd, shit.”

After only a few minutes, Raylan felt his knees began to buckle as Boyd sucked him in and out of his mouth like a suction machine. The sounds of Boyd’s mouth working over Raylan filled his ears, and a familiar tingle began to tighten his scrotum. Within seconds Raylan’s body fluids were running down Boyd’s chin, taking a measured journey down his neck. Standing on unsteady legs, Raylan pushed out a low groan, his mouth open, and his head thrown back.

Once Raylan finally opened his eyes, he saw Boyd wiping his face and neck with the hem of his t-shirt while mischievously grinning up at Raylan.

“You need a little help staying on your feet, boy?”

 

By the time they reached the bedroom, Raylan and Boyd had left all their clothes on the floor, a trail leading from the front door. Raylan was on top of Boyd, fervently grinding his erection against his lover’s stiff cock, the fire in his stomach burning out of control. Both men were panting for air in between lengthy, sensuous kisses.

“Raylan,” Boyd murmured when they parted to catch their breath. “I’m not going to last much longer. Get on your stomach.”

Raylan looked down at Boyd and smiled. It was on rare occasions that he submitted to a bottom position with Boyd. Even at the height of their relationship, when they were in their late teens, Boyd fucked Raylan only on special occasions, like a birthday or when Raylan was just too damned drunk and horny to care. Looking down at Boyd’s flushed face, Raylan realized he would do just about anything the man asked him to do. He was drunk with desire, and he knew this would probably never happen again.

As Raylan switched places with Boyd and laid on his stomach, Boyd grabbed a condom and lube from the night stand, carefully preparing himself and Raylan for a session that was long overdue.

“You remember how I like it?” Boyd asked Raylan, helping to move his body in a frog style position, his legs spread wide, and his knees and inner thighs resting flat on the mattress.

Boyd pushed two lubed fingers slowly inside Raylan and massaged his tight walls, getting him ready.

“Just do it, Boyd,” Raylan said, his words half muffled by the pillow bunched under his head and arms. “I want you inside of me.”

Boyd removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock, pushing into Raylan, unhurriedly burrowing deep inside of him. And then he waited a beat, giving Raylan time to adjust. Raylan pushed his hips up into Boyd’s pelvis, grinding in slow motion. The dance was on. Their bodies moved languidly together, creating an intimately intense sensation that felt brand new, as if they were trying to generate a new connection, one that matched the new direction of their lives. Lives that no longer included deceit, secrets, and crime. At least not within the walls surrounding them now.

Raylan reached a hand beneath his body and pumped his own erect cock, lifting his hips for better access. Boyd quickened his pace, his hips slapping against Raylan’s ass, stroke for stroke. His body slick with sweat, Boyd pushed deep inside Raylan, his orgasm stiffening every muscle in his body. An almost mournful groan escaped from Boyd’s mouth, and Raylan felt his warm breath against the back of his neck, making the damp skin there tingle. Raylan continued to pump his cock until he trembled, an orgasm rocking his body for the second time within an hour.

A few minutes later, Raylan and Boyd were resting on top of damp sheets in the dark bedroom, a full moon peeking through the trees casting a hazy glow through the bedroom window. Raylan was silently spooning Boyd’s lean body. The silence was almost deafening. Raylan wanted to fill the room with the sounds of sex again. He didn’t want to think, and silence always made him think too hard.

“I won’t be able to get to Georgia often,” he said softly. “I spend most of my weekends with my baby girl.”

“I’m not expecting any kind of commitment from you, Raylan. I just wanted to thank you for what you did, and to let you see that I’m doing okay.”

Raylan tried to quell the pain of loss bubbling up in his gut again. They both knew that this weekend would be the last chapter of their story together.

“Tomorrow, we’ll go fishing, like we used to do as boys,” Boyd continued. “I’ll fry up whatever we catch.”

“That sounds real nice, Boyd,” Raylan said, moving his body over Boyd’s, straddling his hips. He gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

“Sunday, let’s try that restaurant you were telling me about. We can have lunch, before I leave.”

Boyd offered Raylan a lazy smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That sounds real nice, Raylan.”


End file.
